Candystore, a white non-binary body, stands on a urinal wearing black boots, black jeans, a black leather jacket, a black faux leather hat from a gas station stuck with a black raven’s feather, a shadow cast over half shimher face, sibylline.
When I got to the top of the stairs at the end of the train platform where there’s no light (shouldn’t we want a light at the end?), I saw a figure sort of tucked in shadow near a tree, standing under a big umbrella you might see a golf caddy carry up the fairway—blue and white pinwheel—except this one was dingy and tattered. All that was showing of their body were two legs in jeans and some grimy sneakers on their feet, facing away from me with the train track at their back. I can only assume the person beneath the umbrella was tattered too, underslept, hungry, angry, hurting. Then I noticed this beautiful glimmering stream emanating form their body, catching the overhead fluorescent lights in the background and glinting through the chain link fence. A perfect arc, a diamond rainbow, sacred geometry. No matter how down and out they must have appeared, when they were peeing it was exquisite. It was pure. #leak #eattherich or else #drinktheirpee
About the author: